


The Cabin

by rosehallshadowsinger



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: A Lil Wingsin, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Illyrian, One Shot, Romantic Fluff, Sorry Not Sorry, The Ol' One Bed Trope
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-27
Updated: 2018-09-27
Packaged: 2019-07-18 03:01:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16109417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosehallshadowsinger/pseuds/rosehallshadowsinger
Summary: On a dark and stormy night, Azriel and Elain find themselves alone in a cabin. With only one bed.





	The Cabin

It’d been an exhausting day at Windhaven, and Elain was close to collapse as she and Azriel neared the cabin on the outskirts of the Illyrian camp. Bed or couch or cot, it didn’t matter. All she wanted was to get off her aching feet, each step barking louder than the last.

Azriel had spent the entire day training a group of females on stealth maneuvers, and Elain had joined them. _Only to learn necessary fighting skills and_ not  _because of the instructor_ , she told herself unconvincingly. _Never mind how much you enjoyed the more ... hands-on lessons_.

Except for the battlefields of war, she’d never seen Azriel in his official capacity as an Illyrian warrior. Elain was used to their quiet, companionable afternoons in the garden, when he looked to her for direction on which weeds to pull and what bags of supplies to haul from the greenhouse. She tried not to swoon as she recalled the pure command in his voice and powerful lines of his body as he drilled his expertise into the trainees. More than once she swore he’d caught her stealing glances through her lashes when she was supposed to be working on her technique.

As Elain traipsed up the creaking steps to the little wooden building — just in time by the look of the ominous clouds overhead — she wondered what they’d find inside.

She’d overheard a conversation earlier that day between Azriel and the camp lord Devlon about their accommodations. More of an argument really, the older Illyrian not budging on his claim of just one cabin for Azriel and Elain to share — the only one left with the camp bursting at the seams for the upcoming Rite in just a few days’ time.

The weather was uncertain this time of year in the harsh mountains, and Elain had noted the angry storm churning atop the summit of Ramiel. One cabin was better than no cabin at all, and Devlon had looked ready to rescind his offer to spite the shadowsinger. 

“We’ll take it,” she’d said, batting her eyelashes and giving Devlon a feminine smile she’d mastered even back in her days as a human. The crusty camp leader had blinked as if stunned, and simply nodded his head before dropping the key into her long fingers and wandering away in a daze.

“Well, _that_ would have been a useful skill to have training under that bastard all those centuries ago,” Azriel had said with an amused half smile. “I might not have even had to participate in the Rite.” He’d dodged her playful swat.

Elain turned the key in the lock, and the door to the cabin swung open with a low groan. As they entered, Azriel struck a match to light the lantern and lifted it to illuminate the room.

“I’ll take the cou...”

Elain’s words trailed off as she scanned the tiny cabin to find small bureau of drawers, the door to the bathing room and a bed. One solitary bed and no sofa. Finishing her sweep, her eyes met Azriel’s — who’d just come to the same conclusion.

He cleared his throat and crossed the room in two strides to close the thick curtains, as if to give himself something to do — and time to think. Wind rattled the widows as it howled past.

Turning to face her, he said, “I can go back to the barracks to see if there’s an empty cot for the night.” But no sooner had the words left his mouth, thunder shook the mountains. Sleet began to pour, pelting the glass panes.

“Don’t be silly, Az,” Elain said, her breath fogging as she spoke. While the idea of sharing a bed with him was as terrifying as it was thrilling, she could never send him out into the biting rain in search of a place to sleep. “We can share, I really don’t mind. In fact, I might freeze to death without you,” she added with a tentative smile.

He lifted a hand to rub the back of his neck, considering. “Only if I insist you get to use the bathing room to change. You earned it after you first day as an Illyrian.” He paused. “You were amazing out there, El.” Azriel gave her a crooked smile she’d only ever seen him give to her.

She blushed with pride and felt her heart stutter at the smile and his words. Did he have any idea what he did to her?

She knew they’d become close, but did he feel any of the thrumming attraction she held for him? She’d been swept away by his kindness and friendship, but she couldn’t ignore the increasing physical desire that had reached a fever pitch. The powerful, Siphoned male before her was the most handsome person she’d ever seen. Elain wanted his hazel eyes to see what no one else gazed, for his midnight voice to whisper things only to her. For his rough hands to trail over every inch.

Realizing she’d been staring at him, Elain hurried to the bathing room with her overnight kit. But as she crossed the threshold, she stopped. Now it was her turn to clear her throat.

“Would you mind … helping me?” she asked, tilting her chin down. Elain brushed her ponytail of curls in front of her shoulder to reveal the long line of buttons down the back of her fighting leathers. The material was so flush against her skin, she wondered if he could see her heart pounding as if threatening to escape.

Azriel took a silent step forward, and slowly — so slowly — began to unbutton them, one by one, all the way down to her lower back. Elain felt the space between them crackling with energy, and she worked to control her breath.

There were two narrow slits in the leathers where wings would normally be. Elain felt as Azriel lifted a hand — and hesitated — before brushing a finger along the exposed skin at her shoulder blades. She shivered but knew it wasn’t from the chilled night.

When she turned her head back to him, she noticed their fogged breaths were close enough to swirl together. She glanced down at his lips and wondered what they would feel like against hers.

“Thank you,” she managed to whisper. She couldn’t be sure but thought she’d seen something stirring in Azriel’s eyes before slipping behind the door and softly clicking it shut.

. . .

 _Oh, Cassian would have a field day if he knew about this_ , Azriel mulled as he lit several candles so he could change for bed. In fact, he wouldn’t have put it past the general to bribe Devlon into being an unwilling but handsomely paid accomplice. This _convenient_ scenario had his brother’s fingerprints — and shit-eating grin — all over it.

Azriel’s feelings for Elain had been growing stronger in the year since the war, but the tension he’d felt in the past months was nearly unbearable. He couldn’t say exactly when, but something had changed between them. A shift that put him on uneven footing when he was around her. His breath hitched every time he saw her, and his pulse raced beneath his cool exterior. Yet despite his best efforts it hadn’t gone unnoticed.

On more than one occasion, Cassian had caught Azriel’s gaze lingering on Elain when he thought no one was looking. Spymaster, indeed.

Azriel had no idea if Elain noticed there was something there. If she’d want to be something more. But he’d taken it as a good sign earlier that week when she’d insisted on coming to the camp with him.

“It would be useful for me to learn how to properly fight, to protect myself,” she’d said, looking back and forth to Feyre, Rhysand and Cassian. Azriel quietly stood off to the side of the town house’s living room, observing from the shadows. “And don’t you think it’d help relations for the Illyrians to see a member of the High Lord and Lady’s family training alongside their females?”

Elain had been insistent, and Azriel secretly loved the way her brows crinkled together when she was arguing her point of view. As the seer’s grasp on her power strengthened, so did her resolve — and he was proud of her newfound assertiveness.

Azriel had felt a felt both impressed by her compelling argument and dread when he saw in Rhys’s cunning, violet eyes that his brother was conceding her point. Azriel hadn’t been sure how the Illyrians would treat Elain, and Feyre seemed to agree as she shot her mate a pointed look.

“The kid makes a pretty good point,” Cassian had said, swinging a giant arm across Elain’s shoulder good-naturedly. “And I think King Slayer here could show ’em a thing or two.”

But it was truly Elain’s choice to make, and she had more strength than others gave her credit for. So Azriel had made no argument, simply saying, “It’d be my pleasure to have you join us.”

Her face had lit up at the words, and he’d become further aware he was a completely done-for male under her spell — utterly besotted by the gentle yet fierce gardener. Cassian had shot him a wolfish grin and waggled his eyebrows.

Azriel rolled his eyes at the memory. He was about to begin undressing when he heard the distinct sound of Elain shucking her skintight leathers.

Cauldron boil him when he’d first seen her in them.

This morning when they were to depart for Windhaven, Elain had met Azriel on the roof of the town house in her usual floor-length gown. He’d taken in her long skirts and tried not to linger on her generous swells as he assessed her attire. Yet he knew her reserved nature and had wanted her to wear whatever she felt most comfortable in. So he’d kept silent, other than an audible swallow, as he picked her up into his arms.

When Azriel and Elain had appeared moments later in the training ring, the Illyrian females were already there awaiting their arrival. As he’d started giving preliminary orders for warmup exercises, Emerie had taken one look at Elain before pulling her by the hand to her shop to find more appropriate fighting clothes. 

Azriel had been halfway through a lesson on how to administer a proper chokehold, when he himself made a small choking sound at the sight of her. To his immortal surprise, the shy fawn had walked into the ring wearing a bodysuit that hugged every curve — and with a just-noticeable boost of confidence in her step. By the gods, Emerie must have poured Elain into the perfectly fitted leathers, and he couldn’t help but drink her in.

A flush of heat bloomed from his core at the thought, and Azriel shook his head to clear his mind. The tiny cabin suddenly didn’t feel so cold.

But then another feeling glowed in his chest. He’d been worried the females would be merciless with Elain. But it’s as if they were ... drawn to her kind heart and tinkling laugh. During a break, he’d even heard her sharing some ideas for the upcoming spring plant and offering to return to help with the seedlings. As they’d left the training area that evening, several females parted ways with her with an embrace. Elain had managed to bring out a side of his people he’d never seen before. And Devlon was clearly putty in her elegant hands.

She was a wonder, and he marveled how more people didn’t see it.

Azriel peeled off his boots, followed by his own set of damp leathers, draping them over the chest of drawers to dry. From his overnight bag, he shrugged into a pair of sleep pants. He cursed silently when he realized he hadn’t packed a shirt since he never slept in one … and didn’t anticipate the sleeping arrangements. _Cassian._

Just as he was trying to figure out a solution that wouldn’t make Elain uncomfortable, she emerged from the bathing room. All thoughts to what he was wearing were replaced by what she was wearing — or rather wasn’t.

Elain had on a dusty rose nightgown with lace that lined the deeply cut top and dangerously high hem. The flickering light played off the silk, and every curve was on full display. He’d never seen her legs exposed, and the tallest Archeron sister’s bare legs seemed to go on forever. She’d taken out the leather strap, and long curls of her honeyed hair tumbled down her back.

_Shit. SHIT._

Azriel struggled to maintain his breathing — and keep his eyes from roaming.

“I, um, didn’t realize we might be … sharing a room when I packed my things yesterday,” she said. “I must have accidentally slipped in something of Feyre’s. I could have sworn I brought a much,” she shifted to tug on the short hem, “longer nightgown.” _CASSIAN_.

Azriel tried to fix his gaze on a spot just above her head and made a small gesture to his exposed chest. “Well, it appears neither of us were anticipating tonight happening,” Azriel said, internally kicking himself for the potential innuendo. “If you don’t mind, I’ll get in bed first so I can try to adjust my wings.”

“Oh of course,” Elain said, flicking a hand towards the bed. “I know how big they are.”

The spymaster strained to keep his expression neutral, the only sign of his effort a slight flicker in his jaw.

Azriel made to angle around her in the cramped space, but she moved in the same direction. They both awkwardly shifted the other way, Elain attempting to get out of his path but still blocking it. She looked up at him with a sweet smile and little giggle that made his stomach twist in a knot.

“After you,” she said, stepping back towards the bathing room so he could pass by, slightly biting her lip.

He pulled back the blankets and shifted to the far side of the bed against the wall. Gods, he was going to need to keep it together. The last thing he wanted was to scare her off. He knew — and respected — Elain’s sense of decorum and had been purposefully keeping his distance these past months despite his building attraction. _It’s just one night. I can do this._

He took a moment to adjust his wings and finally stilled in a comfortable position on his back. Elain blew out the candles.

“Do you want me now?” she asked into the dark. Azriel closed his eyes to focus and will his body into submission.

A strained “yes” was all he could manage, as she slipped into bed beside him.

. . .

Elain didn’t know whether to curse the Cauldron or thank the Mother that she was in this nightgown.

On the one hand, she was slightly mortified to be showing so much skin. But on the other, she couldn’t have planned a more perfect situation to see whether Azriel would finally cross the line they’d been dancing around — it’s almost as if someone had.

Elain slid under the blankets and realized she’d never been _this_ close to the shadowsinger.

They’d had contact plenty of times before, but never in the way she’d come to desperately want. She would throw her arms around Azriel to welcome him home from missions and hold his hand as they took quiet walks together. He would put his arm over the back of her chair after dinner when the family talked late into the night, and sometimes carry her up to bed when she nodded off.

But recently there was a spark between them that sent a jolt through her when they touched. Each connection made every nerve in her body ache, longing for more.

She couldn’t help but hope he felt the same way — she’d seen the way his throat bobbed when she stepped out in the delicate pink slip.

She waited hopefully in the dark, yet the male beside Elain made no move towards her. In fact, he didn’t seem to be moving. Or even breathing. Could he have already fallen asleep?

Elain’s brow furrowed in disappointment. _I suppose I have my answer_ , she thought glumly as a shudder from the cold racked her body. She definitely wanted to curse her tiny nightgown now and tried not to shake the bed with her shivers.

“Elain?” Barely a whisper from the other side of the bed. She nearly missed it over the storm battering the cabin walls.

“Mm hmm?” she responded through closed lips to try and keep her teeth from chattering.

“Are you cold?” he asked. She could almost feel him wince at the obvious question.

She gave a small titter, slightly giddy from the cold. “How did you guess?” she teased.

“Would you want—? I mean, we could ...” She’d never heard him flustered, and it made her heart flutter. He took a deep breath. “You said you might freeze without me ... I can keep you warm?” he offered, reaching an arm out towards her.

A smile crept across Elain’s face, and she was grateful he couldn’t see her eagerness in the dark room. Without saying a word, Elain moved over to Azriel’s side of the bed and tucked herself in his outstretched arm.

Forgetting all propriety, she let a small moan escape as she sidled up to his warm, hard body and heat flooded back into her limbs. She felt lightheaded from the sensation and considered the fact that he hadn’t pulled away from her touch. She wanted more.

Elain shifted to rest her head on his shoulder and slid her arm across his chest. “Is this okay?” she breathed.

Azriel answered silently by gathering her into his arms to wrap her in an embrace, his fingers grazing the silk along her back. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt truly safe and cared for like this.

Leaving one leg flush along the side of him, she bent the other to drape over his legs. Again in answer, he brought a hand to her thigh and let it rest along the lace edge of her nightgown. With her head still against his chest, she could feel his heart pounding as frantically as her own.

Elain felt like they had wandered into new territory, but she didn’t want to remain in a state of uncertainty. She tilted her head to nuzzle her nose into his neck, inhaling his masculine scent that left her dizzy. She felt his hand squeeze her thigh tighter.

Gathering her courage, Elain slowly peppered his throat with languid kisses, starting from the base of his neck and taking her time moving upwards along his jawline. When she reached his ear, she gently tugged his lobe with her teeth.

At that, he lost his restraint.

Azriel flipped Elain onto her back, his hands tangled in her hair as he held himself over her. The surprise of the sudden movement took her breath away, and her small breasts strained against the lace as her chest heaved to catch her breath. The only sounds were her soft pants and sleet lashing against the windows.

Lightning flashed at that moment, and Elain could see the question in Azriel’s eyes. Never breaking his gaze, she reached around him to trail a finger along the underside of his wing. A request of her own. Azriel shuddered, and she could feel his response pressed against her.

She wrapped her hands around the back of his neck and pulled him in to kiss her. His tongue passed her lips, sending a rush of heat through her body. Elain arched her back and ran her foot up his leg. Azriel moaned and ground into her harder, and she dragged her fingers through his thick black hair. She’d imagined kissing him more often than she’d be willing to admit, but this was beyond what she knew a kiss could be.

When they finally broke apart, Azriel was the first to speak. “I’ve been wanting to do that for longer than you know, Ellie,” he said, slightly out of breath.

“Me too,” she replied, smiling. She traced the line of his curved ear.

“I — I’ve also wanted to tell you …” again, he fumbled for words. “That … I think I’ve fallen in love with you.”

Her face was now beaming from his confession. “I’m in love with _you_ , Az.”

He went in to kiss her again but pulled back as their teeth bumped from the smiles straining their cheeks. She could feel the rumble of his laugh deep in his chest, and it made her want him more than she thought possible.

“Elain?” he said in his low voice that curled her toes. He gently brushed a strand of hair from her face and tucked it behind her pointed ear. “I need to tell you something else.”

“Yes?” she breathed. The world stopped as he stared into her eyes.

He paused.

“Your feet are ice cold.”

Elain let out an indignant yet delighted little noise as she swept a frozen foot up the side of his leg in teasing punishment. He huffed a laugh into the crook of her neck.

“Well then, shadowsinger, you’ll just have to warm me up,” she said, her voice full of mirth and invitation.

“ _That_ I can do,” he said with a dazzling grin, reaching behind his shoulder and pulling the blankets over their heads.

. . .

Sitting atop the roof of the town house, Cassian watched the sun set and glanced at the clock tower in the distant town square. _I’d have thought they’d be back by now_ , he puzzled.

He’d received reports of the storm front that rolled into the Windhaven camp last night. Reports from the camp lord himself, which also confirmed _other_ details per Cassian’s orders. _Maybe that’s a good thing?_

As soon as he thought the words, Azriel and Elain appeared from the shadows — and looked slightly surprised to be greeted by him. Sprawled out in the picture of relaxation, Cassian sat on a lounge chair with his hands tucked behind his head and crossed one foot over the other.

He took a knowing look at the pair. “How were the accommodations at Windhaven?” he asked with a devilish grin. “I trust Devlon took care of you?”

Azriel gently tipped Elain out of his arms, and she walked behind Cassian’s chair. The seer placed her hands on his shoulders, bent forward and kissed him on the cheek. Then she gestured for Azriel, taking his hand and pulling him to follow her down the stairs.

“Like that cabin, it’s too bad my room only has one bed,” she said as she left the balcony. Azriel flashed Cassian a rare, satisfied smile.

Cassian delightedly slumped in his chair and sighed. “That good, huh?” he mused to himself.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm all about Az and Elain on Tumblr @rosehallshadowsinger — let's talk Elriel!


End file.
